The Harpy's Daughter

I've read and re-read the wonderful 2014 story Wings Of Desire by taiyakisoba so many times I've lost count. It's the singular best Nonhuman story I've found on Literotica, in fact one of my favorite stories of any category. This story is written as an homage and sequel to it.

To get the full experience, I urge you to read Wings Of Desire before reading this. Please note I requested taiyakisoba's endorsement to write this story, but never received a response. I'm moving forward simply because the Wings Of Desire narrative is just too good not to continue. Consider my story as fiction from a devoted fan.

As always, copious thanks are owed to AzureAsh for editing, RiverMaya for her inspiration, and my new mystery beta reader for his oversight.

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"Harpies are real, and still among us."

My lecture students drew a collective breath as I unrolled an image of a winged semi-human, with large bare breasts, sharp teeth, arm-like appendages that supported feathered wings, muscular legs and sharp talons instead of toes on the raptor-like feet.

"I stand here before you and say with all confidence that the extinct species scientists have labeled 'harpus erectus' is, in fact, still very much in existence, contrary to what the government wants us to believe. It is in the government's best interest to have us think that these magnificent female avians with human-like bodies are nothing more than fossils by now; if people knew that the harpies still descended from their mountain eyries regularly to snatch men for reproduction, they'd lose their minds! The government fears the panic that would be caused by..."

The classroom door opened, and a shy freshman boy came in. "I'm sorry to bother you Professor Strongel, but there's an urgent message for you." He handed me a note. "It's regarding an urgent family matter."

A few hours later, I reached my former home in the village of my boyhood. As I approached, the village priest came out the front door grim-faced, and reported, "Your mother wants no final confession, extreme unction or last rites. She only wishes to speak to you." He shook his head, and put his hand on my shoulder. "She's in God's hands now, my son."

I entered the small house that I'd once shared with my parents. My father Dunjed Strongel had been a blacksmith, but while he was tall, bearded and burly, I looked nothing like him. Instead, I was of below-average height and wiry. I kept myself clean-shaven, as any attempt I'd made to grow a beard always ended up looking more like a threadbare rabbit pelt.

Dunjed was quite put out at my mother's insistence that I be educated. Despite my non-muscular form, and my inability to lift his great hammer more than a few times without tiring, he wanted me to follow him into the blacksmith trade. Thankfully, it was not to be. Not long after I left to attend college, Dunjed had passed on from some apparent heart ailment.

He'd apparently been afflicted early in the morning as he started work. They'd found him that night bereft of life, slumped over his anvil with the unattended forge fire reduced to mere smoldering embers. The village went without a blacksmith for some time, but given my physical unsuitability for the trade, this was just as well. Better no blacksmith than a horribly unskilled one, I say.

Because my dear mother had held firm on her convictions, I was now a renowned Professor of Mystical Science at a prestigious college not far from my former village. Unlike my colleague Professor VanHelsing, who was singularly obsessed with vampires (get a couple of drinks in him at a party, he'd prattle on about them for hours), I myself specialized in a wide variety of mythical female creatures: sirens, banshees, jinniyya, succubi, mermaids, and my particular favorite, harpies.

I held the controversial position that three of these creatures - sirens, mermaids and harpies - were not mythical at all, but had actually existed. In the case of harpies, I was convinced they still did, much to the consternation of my fellow scientists at the National Science Academy. At the Academy's annual meeting, I'd heard the phrases 'charlatan' and 'huckster' bandied about as I walked by.

So convinced that harpies still lived among us, I'd done a great deal of field work in pursuit of harpy knowledge. I'd even gone so far as to discover and exhibit a harpy skeleton I'd recovered from a small cave high in the Erinyes mountains overlooking the college. It was on display in a glass case in the University Hall of Science; in an attempt to discredit me, some jealous colleagues went so far as to claim it was merely a conglomeration of stolen human and ostrich skeleton parts. But I knew the truth, oh yes. My specimen was very real, and I treated her bones with reverence as I reconstructed her form for display.

After entering the house, I went in and sat down on a wooden stool next to my mother's bed. She reached over and took my hand. "My time is short, Oned. I have much to say."

"I'm here, mother."

"Before I say anything else, I have to tell you how proud I am of your accomplishments. Your father would be, too."

I scoffed, "I know you loved him, mother, but Dunjed Strongel was never proud of me."

"It always saddened me that Dunjed never took to you, but he was my husband. He was not your father. A man named Tarkus Whitan was."

Had I not been sitting down, I would have collapsed to the floor at the shock of my mother's revelation. As long as I'd known her, she'd been a woman with very strong morals. Upright and pious, she'd made her penance each week and paid her tithe without fail. The local priest often used her as a role model for all the other women in the parish. She was telling me a secret she'd held for at least four decades!

"Heaven forgive me, but many years ago, I lived with Tarkus outside the village in a small cabin that your grandfather built. I shared a bed with Tarkus, although we were not married. At the time I was young, lovely, carefree, and quite the flirt, and when the village's new blacksmith Dunjed Strongel took a liking to me, I did not discourage his attentions. Whenever Tarkus was away working in the fields, Dunjed would come to call. Poor Tarkus was a sweet, loving man, but physically not very large. Dunjed, though, he was so rugged and muscular, I found my spirit and body craving him." Her cloudy eyes became very sad. "I was a damned fool."

I squeezed her hand in consolation, and she continued.

"One day Tarkus came home to find Dunjed and I laying together. He was furious at the betrayal, of course. Dunjed laughed and walked away, knowing quite well that there was nothing Tarkus could do to him physically. After Dunjed left, Tarkus began shouting at me, declaring me a horrible witch, which of course I was. Then I did the worst thing a woman could ever do to a man who loved her."

Tears began flowing down her face at the memory, and she blurted out, "I mocked him. I told Tarkus how much more of a man Dunjed was, and told him he could leave. And so he did. He turned and walked out of the cabin. I chased after him, continuing to mock him. My poor, sweet, loving Tarkus. He deserved so much better than me. I stopped just outside the door as he headed into the woods, shouting something hurtful at him one more time before slamming the door. That's when it happened; that's when I lost him forever. Four months later, I married Dunjed."

My mind was spinning. I said, "I had no idea you had another man before Dunjed. What happened to him?"

"A harpy took him. She swooped down, dug her infernal talons into his shoulders, and flew off with him. As soon as I'd slammed the door I started regretting my harsh words, when I heard Tarkus cry out in fear. I opened the door just in time to see her lifting him into the air. I screamed and grabbed my pitchfork to see if I could stop her, swinging it uselessly in the air." My mother's voice got very low.

"Harpies can laugh, you know. I heard her laughing as she flew away, joyously as if she'd defeated me, which she had. I'd driven Tarkus out, and she'd snatched him away before I could apologize and try to get him back." She lifted her hand to my cheek and stroked it. "You look so much like him. After you were born, every time I looked at you it was a reminder of my shame for letting him go."

At this point, I was suspicious that my mother had become delusional. I played along, just to humor her. "But how can you be sure Dunjed's not my father? I was born after you married him!"

"You were born seven months after we were married. Unlike your father, Dunjed was not a particularly intelligent man. He had little knowledge of how babies are birthed, and always assumed you were his child. I never corrected him."

"But that timing doesn't add up. If Tarkus was taken four months before you were married, and I was born seven months after your wedding, I couldn't be Tarkus's son."

"Oh, you are. You see, a few weeks after Tarkus had taken, the harpy brought him back. I was awakened in the middle of the night by loud horrific screams, the sound of flapping wings and scraping at my door. My hands shaking, I lit an oil lamp and opened the door. Tarkus was there, in a crumpled heap. I looked up and saw the claw marks on the door, then glanced up into the trees and saw her flying away."

"So he was alive?"

"Barely. He was feverish, was having difficulty breathing, and didn't have the strength to walk. I managed to get him into my bed, then prepared some camphor mixed with goose grease and smeared it on his chest. That helped with his breathing. I boiled some water and cleaned him, and I noticed he was still lean but now his muscles were hard, like iron bands. Whatever he'd been doing, he'd been active. I slept in a chair next to the bed that night, trying to keep an ear open in case he cried out." She shook her head again; the pain and regret she was feeling was now very plain to see.

"In the morning, his breathing had returned to normal, but the fever was still upon him. I went into town and bought some cumin, honey, cinnamon and ginger and prepared him a special tea, which he was able to drink. He was feverish during the day, but at night he would begin to shiver. To keep him warm, I got into bed with him and held him close. One night he suddenly awoke, at least partially. He surprised me by ripping my nightgown open and suckling my breasts, which he had never done before while we were together. Then, he climbed on top of me and kissed me, but he forced his tongue in my mouth which he'd also never done before. At the same time, he reached down, forced my legs apart, penetrated me and filled me with his seed. He'd grown so strong, I couldn't resist him even if I'd wanted to. His fever lasted almost two weeks, and during that period he took me multiple times. That's how you came to be."

"So he stayed with you then?"

"No, sadly. When his fever finally broke, he awakened and asked where the harpy was, that he'd felt her with him. I assured him she was gone, and had flown off after she'd brought him to me. He accused me of lying, claiming he'd been with her while he was sick. That's when I realized why he'd suckled my breasts and put his tongue in my mouth. He'd been doing those things with the harpy, and during his fever dreams, he'd hallucinated that I was her!

I tried to tell him he was home and safe with me again, but he called me a liar, and told me he hated me. He repeated back all the terrible things I'd said to him the night he was taken, accused me of being Dunjed's harlot, and said he was leaving. Then he began searching the cabin, grabbing anything of value that he could take with him. It was only later I noticed he'd taken your grandmother's gold wedding ring with him."

My mother was crying heavily now. "He truly loved me, but I hadn't appreciated him, instead callously throwing him away. When the harpy brought him back, she wasn't throwing him aside; it was because the creature wanted him healed. I foolishly thought I could win him back, but I was wrong. I'd hurt him too badly. His heart was still with her; I could never get him to love me again. The thing last I heard, a shepherd in the foothills had seen him climbing up the mountain, no doubt returning to the creature that had truly proven her love for him."

Clutching my hand, my mother whispered, "When I realized you were growing in me, I told Dunjed you were his baby, and he happily married me. He may have been handsome, but he proved to be a poor husband and father. I'm sorry he was such so unkind to you, Oned. Please forgive me."

Of course I forgave her; when she passed away a few hours later, the look on her face was contentment at last.

Once I had her affairs settled I gathered a notebook, sketchbook, and equipment for scaling the mountains, and headed upwards. My real father's remains might be up there hidden in some eyrie, and after my mother's confession, I was determined to find him.

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It wasn't long after I started to climb that I noticed something fascinating. Someone had intentionally chiseled small chinks into the mountain wall, fairly closely spaced and adequate to serve as foot and handholds. From the valley floor, the mountain wall appeared to be an insurmountable stone facade but in actuality, it was a cleverly disguised pathway leading up to... well, I wasn't sure what it lead to, but I could only assume there was something worth climbing to.

I climbed for several hours; my hands and feet were sore, and my muscles were beginning to cramp up. The noon sun was beating down on me, heating my body as well as the black rock I was scaling. I desperately wanted a drink from my canteen, but I feared reaching for it would compromise my grip, resulting in me plummeting to my death. It was to my extreme delight and relief when I came upon a secluded little nook in the mountainside, wide and flat enough for a man to lie down and rest without fear of falling.

It was deep enough to be out of the way of the wind, as well. Some old, dead tree limbs were there, and I could see evidence someone had once built a fire. Upon further examination I located what appeared to be several hand-sized pieces of rock that appeared to contain a high amount of silica, perfect to act as flint to light said fire. Moving to the furthest point away from the precipice, I sat down and leaned back against the rock wall, took a deep drink from my canteen, and rested my weary body.

As my aches and pains subsided, I found myself in an optimistic state of mind. If I were truly the son of Tarkus Whitan, I'd scale this rock and find my answers. Saying a prayer for the soul of my late mother, I thanked her for the truth of my paternity, her final gift to me. As the sun continued to warm and relax me, I dozed off in blessed relief.

When I awoke, it was with a sudden start as I realized was not alone! A figure was perched on the very edge of the nook, appearing at first as if it were an old man, hunched over. I ventured a greeting. "Hello, are you...a fellow climber?"

To my great shock, the figure's head turned, looking at me over the shoulder. It was a woman's face, with long disheveled hair hanging from her head. Had I not seen her eyes, I would have been completely terrorized. They were quite large, their pupils hazel with gold flecks, surprisingly like my own. What struck me was there was not a hint of malice; rather curiosity, a look I knew well from seeing my own eyes in the mirror.

She spoke, her voice breathy and sibilant. "Whyyyy arrrre youuuu in my fathersssss placcccce?" Then, she rose to her feet and stood to face me. Except they weren't feet, they were talons -- talons far bigger than any falcon or eagle I'd ever seen. She was slightly taller than I was, a little over 6 feet. What I'd assumed were her arms and shoulders hunched over instead unfolded and revealed themselves to be feathered wings. Shaped like a bat's wings with her forearms being the leading edge, at the end of the forearms were hands with clawed fingers. Above her feathered abdomen, two human-like breasts were prominent. A thrill ran through me. She was an actual harpy, and an amazing specimen at that!

I stood, but when I took a step forward, she hissed in warning. I saw her teeth were all pointed, like the teeth on my harpy skeleton on display back at the university. I took a step back, holding up my hands to show I was defenseless and did not pose a threat.

"I'm sorry, I mean no harm. I'm a scientist and researcher, and I've studied your kind for years. Now I've finally met a live harpy, and I'm just stunned at how beautiful you are. As for me being here, I'm looking for my father. He came up here many years ago, but I only just found out about him. Do you know of any other men who climbed up here?"

"There werrrre only my twooooo. One wassss my fatherrrrr. Hisss bonesss resssst in my mothersssss nesssst, nexxxt to hersssss." She cocked her head and looked at me oddly. "Your faccccce isss much like hissss."

"Was your father a small man?"

"He wassss yourrr sssssize. When I wassss sssmall, jussst a chick, I thought he wasss enormoussss, and feared himmmm, but my mother shhhhowed me he wassss kind and gentllllle. We often playyyed together, until I grewwww too large. He wasss soffft and fragile, and my motherrr wasss afraid I would hurrrt him. He loved my motherrr verry much. Even when the musssst wasss not in her, he oftennnn desssssired her."

"What is the must?"

"It'sss the mating urge. It isss what drives harpiesss to abduct humanssss and make them mate with ussss, ssso we may reproduuuuuce. My mother told me sheeee abducted my fatherrr from the village, but afterrr my egg had forrrrrmed, he sssstayed with her until my egg wassss laid. Then my fatherrr became ssssick, and my motherrrr returrrned him to his human mate sssso that he could be currrred."

Hearing this, I was stunned. Then I filled in the rest of the story. "After he was cured, he returned for her, didn't he? His love was so great, he wanted nothing more than to be by her side. "

Her eyes grew wide with surprise. "Howwwww do you knowwww thisss?"

"Because when your mother brought your father back to the cabin to be cured, in a fevered frenzy he mistakenly mated with my mother, thinking she was your mother, and I was the result. When he realized it wasn't your mother he mated with, he was horrified and fled. My mother had betrayed him right before your mother took him, and after the fever left his brain he was very bitter and angry. His heart could never be my mother's again. It belonged in your mother's nest."

"Sssssso we are nestmatessss?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. That's why we both have his eyes."

"Woulllld youuu like meee to take you tooo himmmm?"

"Yes, very much so." I looked again into my sister's eyes, and saw my own feelings mirrored in them. Like me, she had never known a sibling; I'd felt an instant kinship to her. "Do you have a name I can call you?"

"Harpiesss are solitary, we have no namessss, we do nottt need themmmmm."

I stepped forward and touched her feathered shoulder. Instead of hissing, this time she accepted the contact. I felt a thrill run up my backbone. Not only had I been allowed physical contact with my half-sister, but I'd actually touched a living, breathing harpy! All the harpy research I'd done throughout my career was right here, at my fingertips! My mouth was suddenly dry, and my eyes began to tear up!

I told her, "My name is Oned. Our father's name was Tarkus. Since you're my sister, I'd like to give you a name." She looked at me curiously, but voiced no objections. I thought for a moment. Looking at her closely, I could see small shiny streaks of green running though her brown feathers. "I'd like to call you Sage, if you'll allow it."